


dragged out of silence

by madnessiseverything



Category: Sagas of Sundry, Sagas of Sundry: Madness (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Panic Attacks, Soulmates, and fate refuses not to interact, just briefly but there, selina meets the others throughout one day, sorta? its Implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 09:42:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18808615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnessiseverything/pseuds/madnessiseverything
Summary: Selina’s had her routine for years, ever since she moved into L.C Apartments. It has helped her focus on the day, get her out of her own head. She takes care to avoid social interactions, has built her routine around the best times to only have brief chats with the people serving her food. So she ignores the feeling of something being different when she wakes on a Wednesday morning, ignores the way her chest feels strangely light and the odd rush of excitement she feels when closing her apartment door behind her. It’s just another day.or the one where Selina goes out of her usual ways to talk to four special people.





	dragged out of silence

**Author's Note:**

> finally! some more madness fic! i've been dying to post some more, and this finally worked out. it also got way out of hand, this was not meant to be over 4k but i am not at all complaining. hope you enjoy this cuteness! 
> 
> title from unfold by penny and sparrow

Selina’s daily routine consists of a few things. In the morning, she showers with the pressure as high as it can go to drown out everything around her. She leaves her apartment with her laptop and phone, checks the mailroom and leaves the building. She grabs breakfast from a bistro to eat next to the river, where the water sound overwhelms any voices that dare find her while she is in public. Her coding takes until noon and then she grabs the corner booth at a diner for lunch, where she uses the guest wifi to check up on her landlord's dealings, as well as her fellow tenants. Then she returns to her apartment, overwhelmed from all the people outside, and either sets up new jobs or gets ready for her current one. Dinner consists of whatever she can find in her fridge. She goes to bed at 1 am and spends the remainder of the night tossing and turning and begging everything to stop. She wakes up at 8 am and everything repeats.   
  
She’s had her routine for years, ever since she moved into L.C Apartments. It has helped her focus on the day, get her out of her own head. She takes care to avoid social interactions, has built her routine around the best times to only have brief chats with the people serving her food. So she ignores the feeling of something being different when she wakes on a Wednesday morning, ignores the way her chest feels strangely light and the odd rush of excitement she feels when closing her apartment door behind her. It’s just another day.

When she turns to leave the mailroom after grabbing her mail, she crashes into someone. She and the person she ran into both make a startled sound and Selina drops the two envelopes. “I’m so sorry,” she starts stepping back to give the woman in front of her space. Eyes surrounded by dark make-up give her a slow look-over.   
  
“It’s alright,” the woman says distractedly, pulling out her keys and stepping around Selina. Selina crouches down to pick up her letters. She is still on the floor when a loud slamming noise makes her flinch. “Son of a bitch!” Selina looks up just in time to see the woman’s fist hit the metal mailbox. She straightens up quickly, letters clutched in her hands. Her heart slams against her ribs.   
  
Every cell of her being reminds her that she doesn’t talk to the other tenants. She keeps to herself, for good reasons, she doesn’t socialize. Yet she can’t help the tug in her chest that makes her speak up. “Are you okay?” Her voice is rough and sounds too high to her ears. She swallows.   
  
The woman whirls around, fist outstretched and Selina stumbles back, ready to run. Guilt flashes through the woman’s eyes and she quickly drops her fist. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I- sorry.” Selina swallows down the brief spike of terror.   
  
“It’s alright,” she parrots back and the woman gives a hesitant smile. “You look-” She pauses, unsure what she means to say. The woman tugs on her worn sweater with a scoff, straightening it out.   
  
“Like a mess?” She gives a humorless laugh. “Tell me about it. This has not been my week.” She leans against the row of mailboxes and crosses her arms, head tipped back. “First some dickbag decides that I am not leading lady material for his stupid indie movie, then I get fucking rained on walking home.”   
  
Selina gives a sympathetic hum, remembering the random downpour from yesterday. She just managed to avoid it by a few minutes but remembers the way rain soaked into her carpet before she remembered a window was open.   
  
The woman thumps her head against the mailboxes behind her. “And now my fucking mailbox is full of bills and magazines I don’t want because of course it is.” Her arms spread, gesturing to the mailroom as a whole. “I bet you half the trash in here are magazines that are fifty percent ads.”   
  
“I believe that,” Selina responds without hesitation and the woman nods enthusiastically. Selina firmly does not focus on the smudge of black lipstick just at the corner of her mouth as the taller woman launches into another sentence. She does not.   
  
“And- and my family keeps sending me these fucking letters and refuse to take a hint-” She stops abruptly, looks back at Selina, and shakes her head. “And now I’m ranting to the first person that asks if I’m alright. Fuck.”   
  
Selina blinks. While she did not expect a stranger to unload like that, she thinks to herself, she also did not expect herself to actually talk to a stranger in the first place. The woman’s arms go back to crossing in front of her chest, almost as if closing herself off. “It’s okay, don’t worry,” Selina finds herself saying before the wall she can see building is complete, “we all need an outlet.”   
  
The woman smirks and Selina feels herself flush. “We sure do.” The woman sighs loudly, pushing a strand of black hair away from her face. “What’s your name, by the way? Since I already dumped all my fucking problems on you.”   
  
Selina digs her fingernails into her forearm. She doesn’t do this, why is she doing this? “Uh- Selina.” The feeling in her chest is still there, keeping her from running as far away as she can. Something about this feels important.   
  
“I’m Abigail. Yknow, just in case we run into each other again.” Abigail reaches behind her to pull out a bright postcard, staring at it with deadly eyes. “Jesus Christ. Hawaii, really?” She shoves it back in. “Now I’m getting holiday greetings too. Fantastic.” She looks back at Selina with a grimace. “Family, right?”   
  
Selina thinks back to the distance within her family and nods. “Yeah.”   
  
“They just can never be easy.” Abigail huffs and locks her mailbox, without taking anything out. “I’m gonna burn all of those later,” she says with a smile in Selina’s direction. “It’s real freeing.”   
  
Selina frowns. “That seems dangerous.”   
  
“Nah, man, like in a campfire. It’s just fuel and also stops me from ever having to look at them again.” Abigail turns away from the rows of mailboxes and stuffs her key into her pocket. She looks less worn down now than she did a minute ago, Selina realizes. It makes her heart flutter.   
  
“That makes sense.”   
  
“Plus I get some warmth out of it, too. The only thing their waste of paper is good for, really.” Abigail huffs. “God, enough ranting. I’m sorry.”   
  
“I don’t mind,” Selina says and means it. She shelves all her thoughts about how any other day she would not have listened, would have tried to block out anything and everything. But today she smiles at Abigail and Abigail smiles back.   
  
“Thanks for listening. See you around, Selina.” Abigail smirks and walks back out into the lobby. Selina stares at the empty mailroom and feels her cheeks heating up. Hastily, she stuffs her letters into her bag and pulls out one of her pens. She ignores the slight tremble in favor of writing “Abigail” onto the back of her hand. She’ll have to refresh her memory on what she dug up about an Abigail.   
  
She waits until her face has cooled before she leaves to grab her breakfast.   
  
-  
  
When she steps into the diner and starts walking towards her usual booth, it is occupied. A man is staring down at his own hands, a crumpled diner receipt on the table in front of him next to a cup. Selina stops short.   
  
This hasn’t happened in over a year, she distantly thinks as she looks around the diner for a different isolated spot. This has been her standard booth ever since she started going here. Her second choice of spot is occupied by a couple, holding hands across the table. Shit.   
  
The man looks up when he notices her awkwardly standing a few feet away and Selina thinks she recognizes him from the apartment complex. She’s passed him going in and out of her apartment. He clears his throat. “Can- Can I help?”   
  
She just barely swallows down the ‘you’re in my spot’. The guy looks miserable. Red eyes, dark bags. Her heart skips, reminds her of how she felt watching Abigail yell at her mail. She looks down at the free seat opposite to him. “Is this seat taken?”   
  
The guy seems taken aback, looking between her and the seat for a few seconds before straightening up. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”   
  
Selina sits down, but doesn’t pull out her laptop like usual. The waitress appears next to her as if she was hovering just like Selina. “The usual?” Her eyes flick between the man and Selina, brief confusion covered up with a smile.   
  
“Uh, yeah, thank you,” Selina says. The waitress turns slightly to face the man better.   
  
“Refill?”   
  
“Yes, thank you.” The waitress grabs his cup and disappears. Selina does her best to smile. The guy looks back at her with a furrowed brow. “You’re from L.C Apartments, right?”   
  
Selina nods. “Yeah. I think we live across from each other.” Her brain supplies her with the guy’s name. “I’m Selina.”   
  
“Emmett,” he answers. He fumbles with the receipt. Selina starts chewing on her lip. The corner of her brain dedicated to routine and her habit of isolation is screaming, but she looks at Emmett, the way he looks like he’s been crying for a while, the way his eyes seem to glaze over at the sight of the receipt, and swallows.   
  
“Are you okay?”   
  
Emmett looks up at her, the paper crinkling in his hand. He gives an empty smile but seems to catch himself. “Not particularly, no.” His voice is soft, unsure.   
  
Selina nods slowly; plays with her fingers. “Is it…anything I can help with?” She scolds herself for the question but watches as Emmett scans her for a few breaths. The waitress returns with Selina’s frappé and a cup of coffee for Emmett. She gives a look filled with pity towards Emmett, smiles at Selina and walks away.   
  
Emmett gives a sharp exhale of air, akin to a laugh. “I don’t know, probably not.” His eyes wander off to the side and his fingers smooth out the receipt on the table. “I used to come here for breakfast. With a friend.” He drops his head towards the coffee cup.   
  
Selina zeroes in on the way his voice cracks at the word ‘friend’ and picks at the skin around her nails. “That sounds nice.”   
  
“It was,” Emmett says wistfully. “I miss it.”   
  
Selina takes a sip of her drink, wraps her hands around the glass. “What changed?”   
  
Emmett takes a while to respond, long enough for Selina to start anxiously trying to formulate how to backpedal. He opens his mouth, sighs, drinks his coffee. “She, uh, she died last week.”   
  
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Selina winces, curses her curiosity. Emmett looks back at her with a soft smile. Her heart flutters at the sight and she swallows.   
  
“Thank you.” He taps his fingers against his coffee cup, his eyes meeting Selina’s again and again as his eyes bounce over her face. Selina ducks her head down, focusing on her drink. She has never been good with eye contact.  Despite the burning feeling of Emmett’s eyes, she finds herself not minding this conversation. An odd feeling of contentment spreads within her.   
  
“I miss her,” Emmett continues, his eyes now focused on a point far away. “I wish I’d-” He cuts himself off, shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t wanna get too heavy.”   
  
Selina doesn’t know if she is grateful that he stopped, or if she should tell him that she’s here to listen. “It’s okay. I hear talking about things helps.”   
  
“Yeah, I guess it does. She would,” he pauses, swallows. “She would always listen. I’d read her some of my plays.” Emmett’s cheeks flush red and Selina knows she won’t easily forget the image. He coughs into his fist. “Uh, anyway, thank you for listening.”   
  
“Oh, it’s- I don’t mind.” Selina runs her hand through her hair. “I don’t really- talk to a lot of people usually.”   
  
Emmett laughs softly. “Yeah. Me neither.” Silence spreads, but Selina is surprised to find it comfortable. It doesn’t make her want to get up and run. It makes her want to stay. She mulls over his words, and pauses at a detail. “You write plays?” She asks, after a few minutes of silence.   
  
“Oh.” Emmet nods. “Yeah. I uh, write for a theater in New York.”   
  
Selina raises her brows in surprise. “New York? What are you doing out here?”   
  
Emmett frowns down into his coffee. “I followed a girl.” Selina doesn’t like the look on his face, the way his eyes seem unfocused, distant.   
  
“Oh. Quite the leap of faith.”   
  
He nods and downs his cup of coffee. “Quite. Made me fall flat on my face too.” He huffs and shakes his head. “She’s not here anymore.”   
  
“I’m sorry.” Selina wishes she could bring back the blush on Emmett’s face, have the soft smile back.   
  
Emmett shrugs. “Don’t be. It was for the better.” He gives a smile, less empty, and Selina smiles back, glad. “And it brought me to write again, so.” He tilts his head and doesn’t continue. Selina thinks about the warm feeling in her chest and the itch in her hand to reach out and cover Emmett’s. She keeps her hands around her drink.   
  
Emmett straightens up. “I should head back home.” He drinks the remainder of his coffee and gets up. He smiles down at Selina. “This was nice.” His eyes look brighter than they were when she sat down. Selina smiles back, warmth spreading through her chest.   
  
“It was,” she confirms.   
  
Emmett pulls out his wallet and shoves the old diner receipt into it. He starts turning away, but catches himself and taps the table in front of her. “See you around, Selina.”   
  
Selina stutters out a ‘goodbye’ and watches Emmett walk up to the register. The frappé is cold between her hands, but she is sure her face is flushed. She doesn’t pull her laptop out until Emmett has walked out. She pulls out her pen and adds his name under Abigail’s. She has some reading up to do.   
  
\-   
  
When she walks back into the apartment building lobby in the afternoon, she sees one of the tenants shaking apart with a pack of cigarettes in his hands. She recognizes him as one of the few people that have lived in the complex longer than her, his suits making him stick out from the usual crowd that tends to live in places like this.   
  
The cigarettes drop from his hands, spilling onto the lobby carpet. He curses. Selina feels the tug for the third time today and breathes in. The man crouches down but doesn’t pick up his cigarettes. Instead, he stares at the floor, hands shaking where they’re hanging in the air. A soft noise of despair escapes him and Selina doesn’t wait any longer.   
  
She walks over and joins the man on the floor. As she starts picking up the cigarettes, she clears her throat. “Are you okay?” She is distantly aware that it’s the third time she’s asked someone that today.   
  
Surprised eyes focus in on her. “Yeah, yeah, it’s just…” He trails off, falling back to sit down. He runs his hands over his face and exhales forcefully. “It’s been a rough day.”   
  
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Selina says, carefully putting each cigarette into the pack one by one. “It’s almost over though, right?” She doesn’t think she sounds very enthusiastic. It’s been too long, she realizes, too long since she’s had to. Nobody cares about enthusiasm if you’re alone.   
  
But the man gives a small laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.” He looks her up and down, a slight furrow to his brow. “I don’t think we’ve met, right? I’m Jude.”   
  
“Selina,” she responds, trying to remember the floor plans she downloaded. “I think we live on different floors.” She closes the pack and holds it towards him.   
  
Jude nods. “Makes sense.” He accepts the cigarette pack and sighs. “Thank you. My hands… sometimes they don’t want to work.” He curls his free hand into a fist and knocks it into his leg, frustration clear on his face.   
  
“Know the feeling,” Selina says without hesitation. She freezes. What is going on today, she asks herself. The odd excitement in the morning, two separate tenants that managed to pull her out of her self-imposed isolation by simply talking, now this need to open up. The tug in her chest that makes her feel like she should be reaching out. Selina mentally shakes herself.   
  
“Yeah?” Jude sounds hopeful, his face open and vulnerable as he stops the knocking, his fist now resting on his thigh. “It’s anxiety for me. Everything feels… too much sometimes, like it will all fall apart and bury me in the rubble.” He gives a soft, disbelieving laugh. “It really fucks you up.”   
  
Selina thinks about the way the world makes her want to scream as soon as there is no noise to block out the voices. “It does,” she replies, tapping against her leg. “I tend to hyperfocus on something to shut it out.”   
  
Jude hums, pulling out one of the cigarettes and shoving the pack into his suit jacket. He shakes his head when he looks back up. “It’s funny. I don’t really… talk about it,” he admits. “Kinda feels like admitting a weakness.”   
  
Selina thinks for a beat, picking at her jacket sleeve as she tries to make sense of her reasons for never talking. “I think that a lot of people feel that way, especially if everybody else never looks like they’re struggling. I tend to remind myself that if I can hide it, so can others.” She draws a smiley face into her leggings. “It makes me feel less alone.”   
  
Jude nods, a smile on his face. “Makes sense.” It’s quiet for a short while. Jude’s dress shoes are pushed against the small armchair to their right, Selina’s legs now crossed. She watches as Jude rolls the cigarette back and forth between his thumb and index finger. “I guess my method of dealing is much less introspective.” He slightly raises the cigarette and chuckles. “Less healthy, too.”   
  
“We all have our vices.” Selina doesn’t know why she feels so strongly about helping these people today. But there is something. Something that makes them special, different than those that pass her on the street, in the hallways. She presses her lips into a thin line and unravels a thread poking out of the seam of her shirt.   
  
“I guess we do.” Jude knocks his shoe into the chair’s leg. “I just wish mine didn’t also make me hyper-aware of why I use it. Like, I can’t really bring myself to stop, yet it keeps making me think about…” He trails off and Selina looks up from her hands, frowning when she notices the glassy look of Jude’s eyes.   
  
“You don’t have to tell me,” she says quickly and Jude shakes his head.   
  
“Sorry. I guess I’m not as okay as I said I was.” He inhales deeply, fingers counting up to four before he releases the breath again. He looks over to her. “But nothing a hot shower won’t fix.” The smile on his face, though small, makes her heart skip. Yes, she thinks, this was a good idea.   
  
Jude pushes himself to his feet and extends his hand down towards Selina. She blinks up at him before realization sinks in. “Oh! Right.” She grabs his hand and he helps her to her feet. Her hand feels sweaty when she curls it into a fist at her side afterward. It’s been a while.   
  
“Thank you,” Jude says, putting the cigarette between his lips. “It helps hearing someone actually say the things my brain screams at me from time to time.” He pulls out a lighter.   
  
“I’m glad,” Selina says. Jude steps around the chair but stops next to her for a second on his way out of the lobby.   
  
“See you around, Selina.”   
  
Selina smiles and starts walking towards the stairs, eyes wandering down to her hand again and again as she takes her time walking up. It takes a while before the feeling of a warm, strong grip leaves her. She doesn’t mind. Absentmindedly, she adds Jude’s name to the back of her hand.   
  
-  
  
When she hears a knock on her door, Selina stops short. Her hands are hovering over her keyboard. She frowns into the growing darkness of her bedroom before getting up and walking to the door. She opens it and is faced with a stuttering man she has never seen before.   
  
“Hi, sorry, I-I just moved in and I figured I would - get to know some of my neighbors! I, uh, I’m hosting a soirée on- on the roof? Nothing big, just…” The man cuts himself off with a sheepish smile. Single strands stand out away from the rest of his blonde hair.  “Sorry. Here.” He hands her a piece of paper and she scans it briefly. “It’s- It’s a flyer. Like an invite.”   
  
Selina looks back up, taking note of the shifting feet and the way fingers nervously pick at nailbeds. The now familiar tug within her chest makes her smile. “When is it?”   
  
“Oh!” Tonight - like soon-ish? I got lost painting and- here I am.” He laughs awkwardly and runs his hand through his hair, single bits of paint getting transferred to it.   
  
Selina thinks back to the job she has lined up, about the strange feeling she’s been having all day, about the way her bedroom is starting to be too full. “That sounds nice,” she says. The man stops his fumbling and looks at her in surprise.   
  
“It does? I mean, yeah.” He scratches at his neck and straightens out his necklace, tugging at the leather cord and revealing a simple metal circle. Blue paints stains his fingertips, single red streaks going up from his knuckles towards his wrist.   
  
Selina thinks about the people she’s met today, about the tugging feeling in her chest. She looks at the nervous man in front of her, with his flyer and anxious smile. “I’m Selina. What’s your name?”   
  
“Oh!” The man slaps his hand against his forehead. “Oh god, I should have lead with that, I’m sorry. I’m Fenly.” He stretches out his hand and Selina shakes it, smiling. Paint stains her fingers as she pulls away, but she doesn’t mind.   
  
“Nice to meet you. You said you just moved in?” She didn’t see any moving trucks or boxes on her way out this morning.   
  
“Yeah, like- this afternoon. It’s a bit hectic.” He laughs a bit breathlessly, his fingers hooked into his necklace now.   
  
“I can imagine. This seems like a good way to end your first day in a new space.”   
  
“Right? I thought so. Plus, I want to make friends and what better way than to throw a party right?” Fenly shifts. “I have heard so at least, I don’t- It’s been a while.” His voice drops from the enthusiastic rambles and he pulls at his sleeves. Selina files it away for later.   
  
“I wouldn’t know,” she says wryly and Fenly perks up.   
  
“Good! Oh, I mean- not good. But that makes two of us! God, that came across mean.”   
  
Selina smiles. “It does make two of us.”   
  
Fenly shakes himself. “That makes me feel so much better.” Despite his words, he doesn’t look well. His smile seems weak and his voice is breathy, irregular. “I haven’t had friends of my own in a while.” His breath stutters and she watches as his breathing grows more shallow.   
  
“Are you okay?” She doesn’t notice how she steps closer instinctually.   
  
“Yeah! Yeah!” He hiccups and wraps his arms around himself, looking like he might fall apart. He starts to hyperventilate, chest rising and falling as he gasps for air. Selina drops the flyer onto the kitchen counter next to her door and places her hand on her chest.   
  
“Hey, hey. Watch me breathe, it’s okay.” She raises her other hand and breathes in deeply, counting to four, holding her breath briefly before slowly breathing back out. She ignores the way her heart is hammering in her chest, desperate to calm down the person that felt like an anchor of happiness. She doesn’t examine why it feels like that. Fenly copies her, teary eyes focusing in on her breathing. She doesn’t stop counting until Fenly drops his hand from his chest. “It’s okay,” she repeats and Fenly wipes at his eyes with his sleeve.   
  
“I’m so sorry. I’ve - I’ve never lived on my own and my last apartment was with-” He cuts himself off abruptly and shakes his head. “God, I’m a mess.”   
  
“It happens to the best of us,” Selina replies. She takes a few steps away to reach the paper towels next to her stove. She hands them over to Fenly and he accepts with a watery smile. “Thank you. I thought I was- was doing great at holding it together.”   
  
“You were,” Selina reassures him. Fenly’s palms are stained with more paint, she notices as he wipes at his eyes and nose. It’s purple this time. She wonders what sort of paintings he creates. “But we’re all human, we have to break down sometimes.” She thinks about all the times she’s cried in her shower.   
  
“I guess so,” Fenly mumbles and straightens his shirt. “I’m still sorry for breaking down in your doorway.” He huffs. “I swear I came here to invite you for tonight.”   
  
Selina barely swallows down the urge to reach out and grab his hands. “It’s okay, really. You did great.”   
  
Fenly smiles hesitantly. “Uh,” he looks down at his jacket, where another few flyers stick out of his pocket, “will you come?”   
  
Selina doesn’t have to think. “Yeah. I’ll come.”   
  
Fenly’s face lights up, the hesitant smile turning into something blinding, making Selina’s chest fill with happiness she hasn’t felt in years. “That’s awesome!” He exhales in relief. “I’m so glad my brief meltdown didn’t deter you.”   
  
“If anything,” Selina says with a grin, “it made you more personable.”   
  
Fenly raises his eyebrows, face full of doubt. “Really?”   
  
“I have them too,” she says before she can talk herself out of it. “It makes you feel less crazy when you see that others struggle too.”   
  
Fenly nods along. “I guess that makes sense. I’ll still hold off on using them as an icebreaker for now.”   
  
Selina laughs. “That seems like a good idea.”   
  
Fenly straightens up and nods towards the hallway. “I guess… See you soon, Selina.”   
  
“See you soon.”   
  
She doesn’t stop smiling, not even after she has closed her door and heard another door fall shut. She looks down at the hand-drawn flyer. Abstract lines surround the details, a blue line underlining the words ‘Fenly’s rooftop soirée’. She pins it to her fridge and sets an alarm on her phone. She writes Fenly’s name onto the back of her hand and pauses, tracing each name with care. A single blue streak of paint goes alongside her list.   
  
Today feels like something important. Those people feel like something important.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to drop by my [cr twitter](https://twitter.com/nottanycritter) and [cr tumblr](https://nottanothercritter.tumblr.com) as well as [my sagas of sundry tumblr](https://ofdreadandmadness.tumblr.com). we also made a sagas of sundry discord! the link is available through the sos blog :D.


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